


Fragile things

by Ischa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Community: smut_fest, Demons, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Musicians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-21
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-08 06:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like all my stories, this one too is about things we do for the people that we love.</p>
<p>
  <i>"And then I went back to the cave where your scent still lingered, where pieces of you were hidden in the sheets and stayed there for decades and centuries and through empires falling. No one cared, because no one knew."<br/>"I knew," Yeshin says.<br/>"Ah, but you didn't care."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile things

**Pairing:** m/m, m/f  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** Like all my stories, this one too is about things we do for the people that we love.  
 _"And then I went back to the cave where your scent still lingered, where pieces of you were hidden in the sheets and stayed there for decades and centuries and through empires falling. No one cared, because no one knew."  
"I knew," Yeshin says.  
"Ah, but you didn't care."_  
 **Warning(s):** sex, demons  
 **Author’s Notes:** Written for smut_fest.  
 **Word Count:** 3,929  
 **Beta:** stones_at_moons

\---

~1~  
Yeshin runs a finger down the plastic cover and then over the sticker on the front of the case. The messy handwriting states:#1 and nothing else. He knows who sent it because he knows that messy handwriting like he knows his own. It's like Ilan, after all these centuries, just couldn't be bothered to improve on it. He probably had better things to do, is the simple truth. He puts it aside, but not away. Just stands there and stares. 

"Another one?" Ella asks. 

He nods. "Another one." 

"And no return address?" she takes the case from the small table and turns it around. "Only a number. He or she is going to send them until-" she stops. "I have no idea how to even end the sentence, you know? But I do find it a bit creepy. Just a little bit creepy and," she sighs tapping the case against her lips absent-mindedly and he waits her out, "why are you even letting it get here?"

"It comes with the mail," he answers. 

Ella gives him a look that clearly says 'Idiot Boy'. "I mean why don't you just throw it away as soon as you see it in the mail?" 

"Why don't you?" 

"Duh, it's not my stalker. You have to deal with it on your own." She holds the case out to him and gives him another look. "You gonna play it or what?" 

"You only want to know what kind of theme my stalker went for this time." 

She shrugs like she's not dying to hear the first song. "It's a game. I like to play." 

He grins. "I know." 

~+~

The first song is 'Lovesong' by Adele. 

"That one is easy," he says nearly disappointed. 

She pauses the CD and cocks her head. Her hair looks ridiculous like that, hanging on one side like a frayed black curtain. "No way is this a lovetape." 

"They're all lovetapes," he answers. 

"I know, therefore this isn't one." 

"In what world does that make any sense at all?" 

"This one. And that one that only brushes this one," she answers. "This is not a lovetape, except for the fact that it is one. This one has something else to tell you." 

"Okay, so this is a song about love sung by a woman and if the next song is sung by a woman this might be a girls are awesome tape." 

"Which I would so approve of," she says, tapping the remote against her lips making him crazy. There is sticky lipgloss on nearly everything she touches. "But we don't know that." 

"No, we don't-"

"So, it could be something else. Something cool and insightful, you know. Girls are awesome would be like saying the grass is green." 

"Stating the obvious again?" 

"Yeah." 

"Can't we just listen to it like normal people?" 

"It's like you don't even know me," she answers licking the gloss away and biting her lip. She always does that when she's thinking hard. She doesn't exactly have a poker-face. 

He bangs his head on the back of the sofa. Maybe he should just tell her that they're from his best friend from when she wasn't even born, or her grandmother or any of her family, probably. The thing is that Yeshin has no clue whatsoever why the hell Ilan wants to talk now. All the centuries he didn't give a shit and now that Yeshin has come out of his hiding place and is trying to build a life, now Ilan wants to communicate? And besides mixtapes are a shitty way to communicate. "Cover songs," she says into his musings. 

"What?" 

"Oral if I'm right," she answers. 

"What?" 

"Sometimes I think you're not even here. I said, when I'm right you're going down on me."

"Shouldn't that be an if?"

She grins, her lips are bitten and not a trace of lipgloss is to find. Must've been chocolate. "No." 

"And what if I'm not in the mood?" 

"I can always hold it over your head and-"

"Whatever. Fine."

"There was always the option not to bet, you know?" she says hitting play again. The next song is a cover of Smells Like Teen Spirit. 

He groans closing his eyes. She's laughing like a hyena which is super unattractive he decides. "I hate you." 

"I can take it, it's hard to be so awesome and not feel the haters." 

~+~

It's not like Yeshin spent all his life under a rock or something. Granted he spent some of his life under a rock, or as close as that gets. He spent it in a cave, but the times were different back then and people were afraid and always ready to grab a pitchfork and just, you know, hunt something unusual down. Which, when he thinks about it isn't so different from how people are now, except for the fact that they don't believe in his kind anymore and that pitchforks are so last season. 

He takes a deep breath and rolls out of bed. Ella will be dead to the world for a few hours. She usually is after a couple of very good orgasms. He grabs his pants and walks over to the living room.. The CD is still in the player. He doesn't want to listen to it, switching on the TV instead. With the bedroom door closed he won't wake her up. 

It's like life, the universe, the gods, Ilan himself is mocking him, because the first thing he stumbles upon is Ilan's newest music video. There's one millisecond where he thinks about just switching the channel or the whole TV off. It doesn't happen. He watches and listens and when it's over after three minutes, he puts the TV on mute and closes his eyes. 

Figures. 

 

~2~  
Ilan looks into the mirror and tries to find the person, the not-person he used to be. It's a lot harder these days and then a lot easier too. He can be whatever he wants to be, whoever he wants to be. The label loves it for some weird reason, but maybe that's just the times, they are changing, like a wise man said once. 

There are times he has no idea what the hell he's doing, and he always used to know what he was doing. The one who wanted it all and didn't know how to get it was Yeshin. Always Yeshin, as long as Ilan can think back -- and that's a lot of time between now and then. 

_"But why?" and he crosses his arms over his chest, because this calls for Ilan's no nonsense pose._

_"Because I want to know how it is to be with them," Yeshin answers._

_"But why?" The why is very fucking important. It's not like the villagers will just open their arms and welcome Yeshin to their little merry town. Villagers don't like strangers and they like demons less than strangers. In fact they use the pitchforks and torches a lot more often on Oni than on strangers._

_"Will you help me or not?" Yeshin asks, he's biting his lower lip and Ilan looks away._

_"No," he says._

_Yeshin nods like he knew Ilan wouldn't help him all along and that's just bullshit because if Ilan knew why Yeshin wants it so badly he would help him. Doesn't Yeshin know that? But this is such a stupid idea. Living with the humans. What is he even thinking? Them and his kind just don't mix._

~+~

The thing is it used to be like that and now here he is. And Yeshin is living amongst them a hell of a lot longer than Ilan is. He can see the appeal he supposes. There are so many of them. And Yeshin was always the more adventures one. The world they were living in wasn't ever going to be enough. He wonders if it is now. 

_"Because," Yeshin says a few days later like there weren't five days between Ilan's refusal to help him and now, "I don't want to live the rest of my life in a cave with-," he bites the last word off and looks at something over Ilan's shoulder instead. He doesn't need to say it, is the thing. They know each other well enough to be able to end each other's sentences._

_"That's not the only reason," because Yeshin can try to bullshit his way out of giving a straight answer, but he's not going to succeed: Ilan won't let him._

_Yeshin takes a deep breath, his blue eyes sparkling with something Ilan only sees when spring is just around the corner. Ah, he thinks, of course._

_"There is this girl," he says simply._

_"Of course and now you want to impress her and live with her happily ever after," Ilan answers and doesn't add that there won't be a happily ever after for her. She's human after all._

_"I want to know how it feels to be one of them," Yeshin says and he sounds defeated.  
Ilan sighs. Fuck his life. Doesn't Yeshin know that he will have to pretend to be one of them? That he can't ever be one of them That he can't tell a single living soul his secret? "Please?"_

_"Okay," Ilan says, because when it comes down to it, he's a sucker for Yeshin, always was._

~+~

When the make up is removed and the hair is down, he can see a bit of himself. Just a bit, around the dark eyes (a bit almond shaped), the shine of his skin when the light hits it at the right angle (glowing a bit like hellfire), his smile (too sharp teeth). Nothing that would make humans uncomfortable, not anymore. They laugh their instinctive fear off without it even being voiced. That's how the world works now. It's not all bad. 

_The plan is so wacky and simple that he doesn't really think it will work. At all. He destroys the village, Yeshin comes to the rescue of the small, fragile, human villagers. It's a game. But the only ones who know it is a game are him and Yeshin -- it doesn't make it less fun. They do it again and again until the villagers are sure that Yeshin only wants to help, until they let him stay, until they let him eat at their tables, until they share their stories and memories and secrets with him. Until he forgets to come back to the cave he's sharing with Ilan. It doesn't hurt less to know that Yeshin is happy, it doesn't hurt less at all._

~+~

Days, weeks, months and years. Centuries and longer. It's like an old scar that only hurts when you remember how you got it, if you can even remember how you got it. 

He came back once, after Keiko died. He came back and Ilan knew exactly what he needed, even if Yeshin didn't know it. Or didn't want to acknowledge it. It was always a bit hard to tell what Yeshin knew and what he choose to ignore - even for Yeshin. But Ilan knew him. Ilan knows him. 

_Ilan wants to say something along the lines of I told you so, but the truth is Ilan never did tell Yeshin so, so it would be a moot point._

_"Don't," Yeshin says nevertheless like he knows Ilan, and yeah. He does. They do and this is so stupid. Can't Yeshin see that?_

_"I wasn't going to say anything," he answers._

_Yeshin smiles, but it's not a happy smile. "You were right and it hurts and I want it to stop."_

_Ilan knows he doesn't mean it. Or he does, but only for now, only for this one night. Only to keep the pain of losing her at bay. It won't last. Yeshin won't stay. He was different from the start. Made wrong somehow. More human than the rest of them and that says something as they are so human after all. They are all made from the same fabric in the end._

_There is a right thing to do here and a wrong one, the right thing will fuck him up badly, the wrong thing, well...it will fuck him up too. And both will have the same outcome anyway._

_"Anyone in particular?" he asks. He doesn't really want to, he doesn't want to be someone else, but maybe this will be easier then._

_"No, I can't. You can't be-"_

_"Her? Human?" Ilan asks and is glad that his voice stays steady, that he can say it without any infliction whatsoever._

_Yeshin nods. "Both."_

_"Doesn't matter much to me. You need to eat," he says and Yeshin's eyes snap to him, go dark and hungry and Ilan knows it's unfair, but what the hell? He isn't human, he doesn't need to play by any of these stupid rules, he makes his own._

~+~

He runs his hand over the cheap plastic case and writes '#2' on the sticker and puts it into the envelope.   
It will get the message across. 

_They've never done it before. Ilan because he is just too clever, too aware, Yeshin because he's unaware as hell._

_"Tell me what she-" he is cut off with a sharp "No." from Yeshin. His lips look pale and blueish in the moonlight that is flittering into the cave. The skin under his nails looks a bit purple. Overly he looks like he's cold, but he isn't. That's just how they are. At the right angle, in the right light._

_"Anything," Yeshin says softly after a short dead silence and what he means is whatever. Which isn't the same at all to Ilan._

_"Okay, okay," he takes a deep breath and touches Yeshin's cheek with his fingertips. He feels warm despite what he looks like. He looks beautiful with the light blue shine to his pale skin. There are things that shouldn't be hidden, he thinks, and this is one of these things._

_He lets his fingers wander down Yeshin's cheek, over his neck, sketching the collarbone and down one arm. There are things Yeshin doesn't know about, because he wasn't interested in them and that is okay too. This isn't new to Ilan. He always took what he wanted and tried everything he was curious about, still does._

_His other hand slides the kimono down Yeshin's shoulder and then arm. He removes Yeshin's clothes gently with no haste, fingertips dancing over the soft skin until Yeshin starts to push into the touch. Until he's lying bare on the sheets and pelts they used to curl up on when the world was innocent. He caresses the valleys of Yeshin's ribcage, strokes the skin of his hip and then back up again, grazes a nipple just to see Yeshin's reaction to it; cataloguing every little moan, push, shift, catch of breath._

_He slides his other hand down, curves his fingers around a thigh, lets his fingers rub small circles into the skin, the flesh before he curls them around Yeshin's dick. Yeshin lets out a soft moan, his pretty lips opening and Ilan pushes two fingers into his mouth. Yeshin's legs fall open at that, just a fraction, a bit like permission, a bit like he has no idea what the hell he's doing, or what he wants. Ilan lets his fingers slide out of Yeshin's mouth and smears his saliva over Yeshin's leg, his balls, trailing his wet fingers along the skin and Yeshin's legs open a bit more, fall apart when Ilan nudges a finger against his opening. There's absolutely no tension left in Yeshin's body, he's a languid boneless mess under Ilan's hands and when he begins to fuck Yeshin, Yeshin meets him thrust by thrust._

_Yeshin reaches out, tries to pull him in, pull him closer, but Ilan doesn't let him. Hands, fingers, the sharp edge of a nail against a nipple, a rib, the bite of it at the soft skin of his thigh. The rhythmic movement of Ilan's fingers inside Yeshin, the circle of them around Yeshin's dick. This is anything. When Yeshin is about to come, Ilan takes his fingers out and knees over Yeshin's body, taut and ready. "Come here," he whispers and Yeshin opens his mouth, grabbing at Ilan again._

_Ilan grabs his face with both hands to keep him there, keep him still, pinned to the ground. I will not kiss you, he thinks. I will not kiss you. Like a mantra as he lets the energy escape his body, his lungs, the harvested souls he ate, into Yeshin's shiny mouth, with the prettily bitten lips. It doesn't surprise Ilan that this is what sends Yeshin over the edge. He stays like that for a few seconds, just watching, his hands framing Yeshin's face, before he makes himself look away, makes himself let go, one finger after another. Lets his body fall beside Yeshin's, listening to Yeshin's breath as he gets himself off. He stares at the ceiling after, Yeshin's body radiating heat, but not touching. He closes his eyes as Yeshin's hand finds his in the dark and he drifts into sleep as soon as their fingers are intertwined well knowing that Yeshin won't stay, that he'll be alone when he wakes up._

 

~3~  
"Sorry I missed your birthday," Ilan says and Yeshin can't quite suppress the shiver running down his spine. That one night after Keiko died, he won't be able to forget it. He tried. He tried really hard, but it just didn't work. It stayed with him for months, years, centuries, through cities falling and countries changing and all the mess that is human history. It's a throbbing living thing, like maggots feeding on his flesh under perfectly healed skin. 

"Which one?" he says instead and Ilan laughs. Under all this human skin, it's him. His eyes and his too sharp teeth (that used to scare villagers away), the curve of his lips (that people are writing about now), his fingers clutching the wood of the frame (Yeshin can't forget the feel of them on his body). 

"All of them."

"Is that why you're sending a mixtape every month? A bit cheap, don't you think?" 

"You never wanted much," Ilan answers and that right there is such a lie. 

"I wanted everything you could give me," Yeshin says without looking at Ilan's face. He's staring at Ilan's fingers instead. Ilan isn't going to state the obvious here. He didn't bother much back then either. 

"You letting me in?" he asks instead.   
Yeshin steps aside without really thinking about it. It's a bit like no time has passed. 

~+~

Yeshin has 38 mixtapes now. All neatly tugged away. Not one of them has Ilan's voice on it. 

"You came out of your cave after all," Yeshin says pouring tea. 

Ilan sprawls on his sofa like he owns it, but then, it's Ilan. "Centuries waiting for you got old." He doesn't say that he was lonely, but it's implied.

"You didn't have to wait for me," Yeshin answers. 

"I know. I just thought-" he shuts his mouth. 

"That I'd come back after," he closes his eyes and tries to keep the memories at bay. 

"Yeah," Ilan answers. There is anger in his voice and regret. Like maybe if he had said anything at the time, maybe Yeshin would have stayed, but the thing is Yeshin wouldn't. Couldn't. Needed to get away from Ilan, from the way he was, from the way they were. Needed to be amongst people who knew Keiko, who loved her, who were sad, devastated even that she was gone. Needed to be around something that was human, that could share his pain. So, humans it was. 

"I couldn't."

"Because you hated yourself. And is it better now?" Ilan asks. 

"What exactly?"

"Pretending? Watching them die? Keeping the hunger at bay?" 

"It gets easier from day to day, from year to year, century to century. You should know." 

Ilan laughs and then sits up straight to look at Yeshin. "I really, really wouldn't." 

It shouldn't be a shock. Really it shouldn't, but it still is. "Ilan-"

"You know when you left, after the funeral when you left. I destroyed the whole village and they tried to built it up and I hunted them down to the last child, so this would never ever reach anyone. So that you wouldn't know. At the time, back then, it seemed like a good idea."

"Because you cared." 

"Because I cared," Ilan agrees and takes a sip of his tea. 

"And then?"

"And then I went back to the cave where your scent still lingered, where pieces of you were hidden in the sheets and stayed there for decades and centuries and through empires falling. No one cared, because no one knew." 

"I knew," Yeshin says. 

"Ah, but you didn't care."

"I couldn't deal, there's a difference."

"Not to me, not really. Outcome's still the same." 

"And you're here to change that-"

"I don't know why I'm here," Ilan cuts in and then, not letting Yeshin even formulate an answer, barrels on like he needs to get it all out. "I'm sick of being alone and you wouldn't come back and I'm sick of being surrounded by them. They aren't us." 

"I'm not." 

"I know," Ilan says. "You're building homes and playing house." 

"It keeps me going." Yeshin shrugs. And it's strange to admit it to anyone, but this is Ilan and they used to be so close, it still feels like they are. And it's the truth. It does keep him going. This is his life now. This is his life since he left Ilan in the cave, since he turned his back on their kind and left Ilan behind to play house with mortals. 

"But it shouldn't be that way."

"You used to support me in everything I wanted."

"And look what it got me? A life under a freaking rock."

"It was a cave I left you in," Yeshin says mildly. 

~+~

Ilan looks up at the soft noise the key turning makes and then he takes a deep breath when Ella enters the apartment. Yeshin knows Ilan knows even before he sees her. The shock melts to disbelief and then to anger. 

"Why?"

"I was tired of them dying on me," Yeshin says softly, it's not even a whisper. He closes his eyes and leans his head against the back of the sofa. "I wish you hadn't come," he adds. 

"You can't come back from this, you-" Ilan stops as Ella sticks her head into the door to say hello (totally unaware of what is going on in the living room) and then walks over to the kitchen with the groceries and all Ilan can hear, because all Yeshin can hear too, for 100 years now, is Yeshin's heart in her chest. 

~end~


End file.
